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Destination: Isolation

© Lisa Marie Pane

It was the night before my planned hike to bag the 48th _ and last _ peak on the list of New Hampshire 4,000 footers. I spent it at the AMC's Pinkham Notch Joe Dodge Lodge, reading passages from two newly acquired books: "When Women and Mountains Meet" and the lastest edition of the AMC's "Appalachia."

I was determined not to end up in the accidents report section of the latter, the AMC's periodic journal of mountaineering and conservation. And the former provided some inspiration, detailing the exploits of some pioneering women. It wasn't that long ago that hiking was the exclusive domain of men. The earliest women hikers ventured out in cumbersome skirts, and only in the company of men willing to take the "weaker sex" into the mountains. I was thankful they persevered, allowing someone like me to routinely go hiking and backpacking with nary a second thought.

I had a restless sleep, anxious as a little kid the night before Christmas. I was hankerin' to hit the trails. I'd planned on hitting the Rocky Branch Trail at 7 a.m. or so. But instead, I found myself standing at the trailhead by 6:30 a.m.

It was the first full day of autumn in 2004, and the weather forecast called for mostly sunny skies. It didn't disappoint. I was well in the woods when the sun rose through the trees and set the forest aglow.

I passed the maze of ski trails, got into a rhythm and had to force myself to slow down a bit so I could experience the woods in all their glory. The setting reminded me a lot of trails that I used to mountain bike when I lived in Connecticut _ boreal forest filled with fern, birch trees and signs of wildlife all around.

As I emerged into clearings, a bevy of birds took off. From the thud they emitted as they took flight, they seemed to be extraordinarily large, but I couldn't get a good enough view to figure out what they were. Tiny toads bounded across the trail and I was thankful I didn't accidentally squash any. I hoped for some moose to amble by, but none were around on this day.

This was just a wonderful walk in the woods. Quiet, peaceful and solitary.

Sure, there were some patches of mud that were a tad annoying. Sure, there weren't really any views to speak of. Sure, there were times when it seemed as though I was walking smack dab in the middle of a brook bed. And of course, river crossings are never really my thing yet I encountered five of them on this trip.